Sure, Blame the Quartermaines
by Solo Ensemble
Summary: Dillon has some advice for Jason when he learns of how Jason supports the Quartermaine family name.


Prompt - Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk

**Sure, Blame the Quartermaines**

Jason clambered down the steps onto the wooden planks, slipping his phone back into his pocket as he prepared to take the shortcut back to Harborview Towers. He was almost around the corner when he heard the low growl of a very displeased teenage boy.

"Lousy family. It'd be better if they manufactured WMDs instead of this – that way, we _know_ the world would stay safe."

He squinted in the darkness at the lone figure on the bench, confused by the senseless rambling. "…Dillon?"

His younger cousin looked up blandly, noticing the enforcer for the first time. "Hey."

Frowning, Jason stuffed his hands into the pocket of his leather jacket, slowly shuffling forward toward the unescorted young man. "You shouldn't be out here. It's pretty late, and this isn't a good night to be hanging around on the docks."

He was answered with a barking laugh. "Oh, it's not a good night for a _lot_ of things, cousin. It's not a good night to run away from home, it's not a good night to be ambushed by your senile grandfather, it's not a good night to discover something that's going to change the course of your life forever…"

Jason scratched his head, unsure of where the young man was coming from. "Look, all I'm saying is that there's got to be a better place for you than out here. Kelly's is still open – I saw Georgie in there just now, so-"

"Can I see your wallet?"

The abrupt question threw him for a loop as Jason towered over the young man. "What? No."

Dillon simply held out his hand. "Please, Jason?"

There was something intensely troubling in his cousin's blue eyes, and Jason had no idea why he was obliging him as he nevertheless reached for his pocket. "What, you need money? All you have to do is ask-"

"Not money," the kid laughed, motioning for him to hurry it up. "No, money can't help me where I'm going. All I see in my future are…minivans and lollipops under the sofa cushions. Oh, come on, just hand it over."

He snatched the wallet from Jason's hand and flipped it open just as another figure approached them and the enforcer looked up in surprise as his grandfather blustered onto the quiet docks.

"Dillon, there you are!" He frowned darkly at the young boy who stood absently, still going through the contents of Jason's wallet. "What's the matter with you? We can't have you wandering off, especially now, young man. And look at this – look, you're sitting out alone on the docks exchanging contact information with your role model of a cousin. If he asks you for a job, Jason, I consider you honor-bound to refuse him, young man!"

"Aha," Dillon announced, plucking a black foil package from his older cousin's wallet and holding it up for all to see. "Just what I thought. Way to support the family, Jason."

The mobster frowned at first the young man and then the old one. "Look, I don't know what this is about and –Hey!"

"Yup," his cousin sighed, watching the foil packet sail through the air and hit the waves with a tinkle. "You won't be needing those, trust me."

"Dillon-"

"Young man-"

"I mean, I think it's cool and all," he shrugged, ignoring the two older men. "Even though you hate the Quartermaines – and no one blames you – you still buy their products. Too bad you're about to get screwed – again."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Faulty condoms, my friend," he smiled, finally turning to face his cousin. "It's a good thing I took care of them for you – you'd've been a dad before you knew it. At least someone can learn from my mistakes-"

Jason's wide eyes immediately sought his bristling grandfather. "Faulty condoms? Made by ELQ?"

"An ELQ subsidiary," Edward bristled. "And it was one defective batch – let's not make a mountain out of a mole hill."

"No," Dillon agreed with a grin. "Let's make a father out of a teenager instead."

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose, already knowing where this was headed. "Dillon…"

"Young man, whatever happened between you and Lulu happened," Edward tried to explain. "All that matters now is how we're going to handle it…"

"There isn't going to be a 'we', don't you get that?" Dillon raked a hand through his wild spikes, feeling more and more out of control as the seconds passed. "Me and Lulu are going to decide what to do for the baby – that's it. No one else. We wouldn't even be in this mess if it wasn't for _your_ crappy product! Man, I sure hope you haven't gotten laid recently, Jason – no offense, but you'd be pretty screwed right now, too, and not in the good way."

"Dillon, our condoms didn't force you to…engage in sexual intercourse with that girl," Edward fumed. "And it was only one batch that caused a limited amount of unexpected pregnancies. The problem has been corrected!"

"Trying to pretend you're not freaking out about a class-action suit, Grandfather? I can't be the only one this happened to – when this gets out, you'll be ruined!"

"Oh, I hardly think so," the old man snorted, waving his hand in dismissal. "…I have heard a few rumors of a stork sighting, yes, but so far, you seem to be the only one taking it badly."

"A few?"

"Well, I was just at the hospital today, yes," he continued, clasping his hands at his waist as his two grandsons glowered at him. "It seems that Dr. Meadows is expecting; she and her husband are thrilled, I'll have you know. And I saw Patrick Drake pulling Elizabeth Webber's chart out and confirming the news – I imagine she and Lucky will be very pleased. They've been married for several years now and it's about time they started having children of their own-"

"Wait," Jason barked, slicing his hand through the air and prompting a stunned look from Dillon. "Elizabeth's pregnant?"

Edward's brows rose at the question. "Well, yes, Jason, I don't know why you're so surprised. She's a nice girl and has always loved children. I imagine that she'll be most excited to hear-"

"Jason?"

The three men turned from their positions in the shadows as a petite brunette half-stumbled down the steps toward the enforcer. In the darkness, she didn't notice the two other figures standing next to him.

"Oh, good," she panted, settling a small hand on her flat stomach. "Jason, we need to talk. I just had a check up and –Oh."

Her lips parted on a gasp when Edward stepped out of the shadows, his pale blue eyes glittering deviously as the old man put two and two together. Behind him, Dillon had to sit down.

"Why, Elizabeth, dear," he smiled, noticing how his grandson's hands curled into fists. "What a surprise. Or should I say, _surprises_, hm?"

The brunette paled and took a small step back. "Maybe this wasn't such a good time…"

Edward's grin only grew as he cast a sidelong glance at the harbor where a twinkling black foil package still floated atop the waves. "I think it's an excellent time, dear. Why don't you go ahead and tell the dear boy your news?"

His eyes twinkled as he looked at Jason, who only glared back. "I dare say, Jason, I wouldn't mind if you chose to blame this on me. Oh, no, I shouldn't mind at all."

**The End.**


End file.
